


Roots

by Amyused



Series: The Park Date [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amyused/pseuds/Amyused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Covering the cost of a theme park date with Zaizen requires Kenya to make a few sacrifices, especially when it comes to his hairstyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roots

Aw yeah. Kenya was pumped. It was like his dream date coming to life. Roller coasters, haunted houses, stunt shows, and Zaizen all in the same place! At that point it didn’t matter that he’d had to save up and spend a few months’ worth of allowance on their unlimited ride tickets or that Zaizen was acting way too sullen for being at a place with “amusement” in the name. An amusement park date was something that always seemed fun to Kenya and so far it was living up to all his expectations.

Thanks to a bit of misty rain earlier in the day, the park was miraculously uncrowded, though also pretty stuffy and humid as a swamp in the early summer heat, despite the continued cloud cover. Kenya didn’t mind, since it meant the pair never had to wait more than 10 minutes to ride anything, but Zaizen was apparently put-out by the way his hair was drooping. Though honestly, the repeated roller coaster rides, with their grueling twists and flips and surprise drops, couldn’t have been helping that anyway.

Kenya would almost have feared that his friend wasn’t having any fun, except for the fact that the little genius kept indulging him and letting him pick the rides without complaint. Sarcastic comments, yes, but actual complaining, no. To Kenya, it was like a flashing neon sign of fun being had.

As the time approached one in the afternoon, the clouds finally started to clear and the pair staggered off of Son of the Great Scream Beast for the third time that day. Pulses racing and legs still shaking, it occurred to them that they should probably eat something before hunger made them as wobbly as the g-force. Thankfully, there was a meal-worthy takoyaki stand filling the air with good smells nearby. The two placed their orders there, and Zaizen paid, though he was in no way prompted to do so. Surprised and more than a little touched, Kenya gave his thanks and the two grabbed an empty outdoor table to wait for their food.

Finally allowing themselves a break from the thrills and feeling the adrenaline drain out of them, the pair flopped onto the same side of the bench, with their backs against the table. It was a different sort of tired than what they got playing tennis. It was like coming down from a high, though they were sure to catch their second wind once they got refueled.

Sighing into the silence between them, Kenya looked over, grinned at Zaizen, and then felt his heart jump when he got a near-grin in return. Heart-skips had been happening a lot that day, but this was it’s own thing. Fondly, Kenya reached out to touch a wayward spike in Zaizen’s hair. It must have frayed apart in the artificial wind of the coaster, but Kenya twisted the ends back together between his fingertips.

Ducking away from Kenya’s hand, Zaizen’s expression shifted into a scowl, and Kenya couldn’t suppress his chuckle at the younger boy going back and having to fix his hair himself, starting with the piece that Kenya had already set to order. It was like touching the boy’s hair had flipped a switch that reminded him all at once that he wasn’t supposed to look like he was having any fun. That thought in mind, Kenya laughed for real, and Zaizen’s scowl morphed into a mild glare.

“Your hair is just as bad,” the second year accused, and Kenya ran his fingers back over his scalp to feel his wind swept bangs. He ruffled it and parted it and tried to flatten it down, but had no idea what sort of damage he was doing without a mirror to look at. Lifting his hands away and raising his shoulders in question he asked, “How’s that?” and was less than surprised when Zaizen scooted closer and took over the task of straightening Kenya’s style. Not at all minding the feel of someone else’s fingers brushing through his hair, Kenya relaxed and let him, though it wasn’t long before the fingers slowed and Kenya caught a puzzled expression on the other boy’s face. “Done?” he asked.

“No,” Zaizen responded quickly, shaking his head as if snapped out of a reverie. “Your roots are showing,” as if that explained everything.

“Uh, yeah,” Kenya affirmed, feeling a blush rise on his cheeks. “It’s gotten pretty bad. I know.” The way that Zaizen was staring at the top of his head was starting to make him nervous. He rather wished that he would stop.

“So why haven’t you touched them up?” Zaizen prompted, shifting his gaze to meet Kenya’s and pinning him with a question that wasn’t any more comfortable than the close examination of his hair.

“I’ve been saving up, so I couldn’t afford it,” Kenya answered meekly and felt himself shrink. He was pretty sure that if it had been Zaizen, his parents would have bought the hair dye for him, like how they kept him stocked with wax and hairspray.

Nodding, Zaizen considered Kenya’s response and hazarded some confirmation for his genius conclusion. “Saving up for today?” he asked with a sidelong glance.

Kenya felt his whole face flame up. Yes, paying for their trip to the park had always been his plan, and he had realized pretty early on that he’d have to make some sacrifices in regards to spending, but he had never wanted Zaizen to make a big deal out of it. “...Y-yeah. Mostly,” he said, trying to play it down with a shrug of his shoulders.

Zaizen must have seen through it, or else was very touched by sacrifices in hair styling, because he seemed to soften. The actual feelings that Kenya saw in his expression were something he couldn’t decipher, but they warmed his heart to the point where he didn’t flinch back when Zaizen went to brush his fingers through Kenya’s hair once more and watch the new-found sunlight reflect off of the full length of the two-toned strands. “You’re hair’s blue.”

Zaizen’s observation came like a deadpan non-sequitur to Kenya, who sputtered “Wh-what?!” the touching mood immediately broken.

“I didn’t know,” Zaizen shot back a little defensively.

“You’ve seen me in the shower!” Kenya practically wailed, but brought the volume down a bit, when he noticed Zaizen glance around quickly, scandalized for the sake of anyone who might have overheard. “Club showers. And I don’t bleach down...there. Just sayin’!”

“Well, I don’t look!” Zaizen hissed and put his hand up to tug on his ear in a nervous gesture, that he probably didn’t realize drew attention to the way they turned red in his embarrassment. Wielding that little tidbit, Kenya’s expression shifted into something more skeptical “...Looks black when it’s damp,” Zaizen relented and looked desperately toward the food stand, willing it to call their order numbers and give him a reason to escape.

Kenya, still rather embarrassed himself, was glad to have company in his realm of discomfort, but didn’t like the idea that this could make them awkward around each other for the rest of the afternoon. He sought to lighten the mood. “...So does yours,” he hedged at a joke. “I might have looked at some point.”

For a long moment Zaizen could do nothing, just stare slack-jawed at his partner, until he uncharacteristically burst into laughter, a truer laugh than the speed star had ever seen out of him. The relief that washed over him as their awkward tension broke was greater than any embarrassment he could possibly have felt at the jokingly delivered admission of perversion. But again, at least he had company.

It took a minute, but Zaizen eventually calmed down from his laughing fit. He wiped at his eyes and spared one last self-deprecating chuckle for himself and how uncool he must have looked. “No offense, senpai, but duh,” he said breathlessly. He tried leveling a flat look at the upperclassman, but his eyes were still shining with laughter.

“It was worth saying,” Kenya grinned back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Zaizen tossed back, rolling his eyes. He took in the park buzzing around them: brightly colored structures and twisted signs, the smell of food and asphalt, the far off screams of terror and thrills. “...Thanks for bringing me here,” he added lightly, trying to mask his true feelings of gratitude, though if he’d been watching, he’d have seen Kenya light up at the praise. It was one thing to assume that his partner was having a good time; it was another to have him confirm it.

“It’s worth showing my roots for.”

It could never be said that Kenya wasn’t an Oshitari, in not only name but genetics and romanticism. Zaizen gave him another nearly-fond and slightly mischievous look. “We should ride the ferris wheel after this.”

“Why?” Kenya asked, looking almost offended by the idea. “It doesn’t even go fast!”

“Senpai, really...” Zaizen raised an eyebrow at the other. “Ferris wheels are not about thrills.”

“Then what’s the point?” Kenya was starting to squirm under the younger boy’s judgemental eye.

“It’s about the company,” Zaizen hinted.

“...I still don’t get it.”

At last, with advantageous timing, the food stand called the pair’s order numbers. Zaizen rose immediately, wondering why it was that he chose to put up with such dense and ridiculous people, but feeling affection for his partner all the same. “I’ll show you. Besides, if we rode on another of your thrill rides after eating, I’d barf,” he promised without turning back.

“...Point taken.” Kenya followed.

**Author's Note:**

> A fic from May 2012 by the Rachel half of Amyused.
> 
> We're actually in the process of turning this story into a doujinshi to sell in Japan!


End file.
